Third Time's the Charm
by frecklepetal
Summary: It's always a little awkward walking upon someone you haven't seen in 16 years dragging a possibly dead man inside a mansion in the middle of Italy. Well, maybe not for these two. Sam Drake/OC. One-shot feat protective!sam, young!sam, flashbacks galore, and a little bit of gay shit!


"Figures you would be here."

The disembodied voice startled Sam Drake, who swiftly released his grip on the waiter he was dragging inside the doors of the Rossi estate. An awkward situation, but he didn't need to worry. There were loads of explanations for dragging around an unconscious guy. He'd talk his way out of this.

Or punch his way out.

Either way, he had to keep cool. He closed his eyes, sighing out smoke from the cigarette he took out of his mouth and turned to his right.

"If you don't mi—"

Sam froze. A woman in a high neck navy dress leaned against the door frame, one arm crossed over the other. She lifted her hand and gave a soft wave.

"Tess," Sam breathed.

"Nice to see you too, pirate." Tess's eyes crinkled as she offered a moment's length of a small smile.

Sam cleared his throat and began fidgeting with various parts of his clothes. "I… I don't know what—I mean, you look… "

By the time he finished, Tess had sauntered over to him, a laugh bubbling on her face, eyebrows raised.

Sam let out a broken laugh and smiled. "Hi."

"There ya go."

She took the cigarette from his fingers and inspected it before bringing it to her lips.

"Sam, don't you know smoking indoors is a fire hazard?" she asked as she took a drag. Sam's lips curved into a coy smile and Tess matched it in response.

"God, I've missed you."

"Same here."

A few moments of silence lingered between them. Sam noticed her jagged fingernails holding the cigarette. Same ones she refused to paint any color but blue until she was 23. He glanced down at her shoes. Same ones she wore at a wedding she forced him to attend with her. He looked back up at her rose-tinted smile, which was, naturally, the same one he got to see whenever he proposed a good idea or told a story about... well, anything, as long as it wasn't sad. And her eyes, they looked familiar too—in fact he often saw the same pairs on puppies. She had different hair though. But that was expected. She constantly changed her hair.

Tess adjusted her bangs and released a long sigh. "So this isn't weird at all."

"No, no. Not at all. It's not like we haven't seen each other for 16 years and then you find me dragging around a guy for all you know could be dead in a mansion in the middle of Italy."

"Uh…"

"He's not—he's not dead. I just punched him out."

"Ah. Good."

"I actually need to take his clothes off."

"Okay. Why."

"How 'bout I brief you on the last 16 years of my life while I change?"

"Sure."

A few minutes later, Tess sat cross-legged on a table across from Sam and the waiter, who now lay unconscious in just his underwear. Sam had managed to get the new pants on, which he kept complaining were too tight, when Tess finally picked up her gaze from the floor.

"So hopefully the plan will go off with getting too hairy, but you know how these things go… Hey, what's wrong?"

Her face had fallen, and she was staring somewhere around his midsection, though he couldn't tell where exactly. She glanced up at his question, but only for a second before her eyes fixed back down. Sam chuckled awkwardly. "What, unimpressed?"

She nodded toward him and with a soft voice, "Your bullet wounds..." She remembered her cigarette and took a drag. When she looked back up, the lines on her face seemed deeper and her eyes looked 16 years heavier. Suddenly 16 years felt a lot longer than it did moments ago. He wondered what she thought 16 years looked liked on him.

"It looks like it hurt," she finally said.

He took a breath. But his voice sounded scratchy and low. "It did."

She looked strange when she didn't smile, like she wasn't herself. He didn't like it.

A moment passed before he cleared his throat and proceeded to put on the waiter's shirt. When he looked back at Tess, her expression looked far away.

"Hey. Tess."

She looked up.

"What are you thinking about?"

* * *

It was the kind of night where Tess didn't realize it was night until it was too late. She sat surrounded by books and papers in the middle of the blanket in the middle of her bedroom in the corner of her apartment. Actually, it wasn't really so much her bedroom as it was an extra room that wasn't being used. And it wasn't really her apartment, but her rich friend Natalie's apartment. Natalie went to a Catholic high school with her and was now a senior at a local university. Tess was just trying to finish community college. But this was proving difficult, because while she was busy doing research for an important paper, Natalie was also busy—with a boy she had brought home.

Unfortunately for Tess, she had left her headphones in class. But she didn't realize this until Natalie's arrival made her look up from her work to the clock in front of her that did not read 5:30 like she swear it was just a minute ago but 11:30. And when she looked up again and realized that Natalie's moaning had not stopped for a _straight hour_ , she decided to throw her stuff into a backpack and make a quick exit via the window. It was probably stupid and unnecessary—she could've just banged on the connecting wall or set the sprinklers going or something, and she didn't know a lot of places she could go after midnight that wasn't a bar or a club.

And then she opened the window.

"Sam!" A bright-eyed boy with a lop-sided grin and a familiar jean jacket had appeared on her fire escape.

"Hey, I was just about to knock…" he explained taking a cautious step back as Tess swiftly jumped through the window from which her roommate could still be heard and closed it behind her.

"Uh, did I just hear…?"

"Natalie? That would be correct."

One side of his lips curved in amusement as his eyes peered around Tess. "Sounds like she's having fun."

"Except a lot of those sounds you're hearing from her are fake. Or at least exaggerated."

The same amusement expanded into a curious grin when he smoothly nodded his head back to Tess. "How do you know?"

Her words repeated themselves in her head as she blinked blankly at him. "Not… important…" she lowered her gaze onto his jacket and stopped fidgeting when she realized why it was familiar. "Is that the jacket I stole from you?"

"Yeah," he lowered himself slightly so Tess could see the whimsical smile he flashed. "I stole it back."

There was a moment of Tess just looking at him, which she quickly decided was a moment too long and so she should probably say something.

"Fine. Looks better on you anyway."

Not that.

" _So_ ," she took a step back and leaned on the railing of the fire escape. "Where are we going?"

Better.

Sam's expression refreshed itself and with a grin he started down the stairs.

"Follow me!"

The place took longer to get to than most trips did and Tess didn't recognize the area they were in or the building they snuck into, at least from the back where they came upon it. But then they got inside.

"A museum," Tess breathed a smile.

It was big. It was open. She could spot about six other exhibits from where she stood, despite the height of the glass cases and statues around them. The air was as still as the artifacts. She felt hesitant to move, like she'd disrupt some sort of peace she was accidentally invited to.

Sam's voice brought her out of her haze.

"I know the last two were sort of a bust," he began, also standing still beside her. "But this one doesn't have gates. Just a couple guards to watch out for."

Tess smiled and lightly nudged Sam with her body before letting herself roam. She didn't know how much time passed as they hungrily consumed each bit of information they could find, theorizing about answers to unsolved questions, debating over which Ancient Egyptian ruler had the best facial hair. They even encountered a trivia station and immediately played each other—at a risk. The loser had to carry the other around on their back. Tess won.

"Thank God. You're too tall for me to carry," she said before climbing on a bench and jumping on Sam's back.

"Jesus, you're light," he said with some surprise as he adjusted his grip on her legs. "Have you been forgetting to eat again?"

Tess rolled her eyes. "No… not really," she said realizing that she had, in fact, forgotten to eat dinner earlier. Again.

"Tess!" he scolded, turning partly as if he could face her.

"Stop worrying! That's my job! Now move. Giddy up. Vamoose."

Sam sighed and began trudging along. "It's not your job to worry about me."

"Sam. C'mon," Tess scoffed, leaning her head next to his. "You constantly worry about Nathan, you worried about the cat that couldn't reach that opening on the way here, you worry about…"

" _You_."

" _Everyone_. Apparently." Sam chuckled and shook his head.

"You spend so much time worrying about other people," Tess continued, her tone attempting something serious, though uncomfortable. "Someone needs to worry about you. Like me. Which is why it's my job. Legally registered with the government and all since I met you." Tess didn't see his face, but she sensed him rolling his eyes and smiling reluctantly. At least he must have, because she was definitely funnier than him, though he'd insist otherwise.

"Besides, I have to put my anxiety to some good use," she concluded. She felt the rumble of his quiet laugh. Yep. Totally funnier.

Eventually they came upon a large detailed map of the world traced with variously colored routes of famous expeditions. With a double tap on his shoulder, Sam gently let her down and they both silently stared at the map next to each other. Until Sam cleared his throat and spoke in a low voice.

"Nathan and I are leaving tomorrow to check on a possible lead about Francis Drake. Probably just a week. Two max." Sam looked down at her and nudged her lightly. "Just so you don't worry and think we're missing or something."

Tess nodded, but her face didn't react. And then she spoke, "Do you know what I haven't done in forever?" She turned to him and smiled. "Played Hide and Seek," she started backing away with anticipation. "And what better playground is there than a museum like this?"

Sam looked as if he hadn't caught up with her suggestion or even as if he was reluctant to catch up, but then he shrugged his arms and a playful grin took over.

"I'll hide!" Tess exclaimed running away. "Count to ten!"

As some time went by, and as many of Sam's attempts to make her laugh with a range of puns and impressions failed, Tess realized she was actually much better at hiding than she thought. She took a peek around to check out where he was. Instead, she noticed a night guard about to walk through the archway entrance to their current section. And some feet away was Sam, about to unknowingly walk directly through the guard's line of sight.

Instantly, Tess swore under her breath, whipped her backpack around, and shoved her hands in, praying she crammed in something useful before she left. She felt a small plastic object, and without a second thought she popped out of cover and chucked it across from Sam where it collided with a case and echoed its fall on the floor. At the same moment, the guard appeared through the entrance and cocked their head towards of the source of the sound before walking over to investigate. The noise also alerted Sam who, only a few feet away from the guard, halted and became as still as the statue next to him. Tess scurried as quietly as she could behind Sam, clamped her hand around his mouth, and tugged him into an opening between a case and the wall.

The air was silent again. And all she could hear was her breaths, Sam's breaths, and her heartbeat. Her pounding heartbeat. She gently squeezed Sam's hand, which by the lack of space between them, was already in hers. He squeezed back.

A minute later, Sam peered out from the opening and still hand-in-hand pulled Tess out and ran, careful to avoid another guard, into an empty exhibit area filled with white sheet covered items. He breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Tess laughing, a fresh glow on his face.

"What would I do without you, Theresa Virago?"

"You'd be in a shitty situation, Samuel Morgan," she laughed, shifting awkwardly. "Don't worry," she smiled. Her heartbeat wasn't slowing down. "I'll always be there to cover you."

* * *

"Tess."

"Hmm?" She snapped her head back up.

"What were you thinking about?" Sam asked again, softly.

Her half-smile came back and she shook her head. "Nothing." She eyed him and his waiter outfit up and down a couple times, "… you look stupid."

"Mmm," Sam strolled over to her as he spoke. "I blend in though."

"You look uncomfortable," Tess retorted.

He raised his eyebrows and bowed his head forward, moving closer. "I could say the same to you."

Tess chuckled awkwardly. Sam stood directly in front of her now. "Well, you know," she cleared her throat. "Blending in."

"I don't know…" He pouted his lips and shrugged. "If that's your job, I don't think it's going too well."

"I suppose wearing a fancy dress in a basement… kitchen. Area. Place," she gulped. "You could come to that conclusion."

Sam extended a hand, which Tess took to hop down off the table. But he didn't move. Instead, he slipped the cigarette from Tess while gazing at her and let his hand linger with hers.

"What I mean is…" he began, blowing out the last of the cigarette smoke before crushing it on the floor with his foot. "You look real good." Still gazing.

If she breathed too deeply, her body could probably touch his.

Before the pink on her cheeks could fully form on the surface, she slipped out of the space between him and the table and blurted, "Let me help you. For old time's sake."

"You're not too busy with... uh, whatever you're doing here?"

"An odd job," Tess explained with a shrug as she glided over to the waiter. "Paid pretty well. But I've already done what I needed to. Besides," she bent down and picked up the waiter's legs. "This is far more interesting."

Sam grinned and hooked his arms under the waiter's. "Well, alright then. Welcome aboard, ye old salt."

"Shut up."

...

"Okay. How much is a pirate willing to pay to get his ears pierced?"

The tunneled halls of the kitchens echoed the laughter of the two as they made their way down, however much they tried to stifle it.

"A buck an ear."

"Agh, Sam! Fine. That was good."

"Right?"

"I had a better one though."

"Ah, no you didn't."

"Ah, yeah I did," Tess mocked. Sam just scoffed in return.

"Alright," she laughed. She suddenly stopped and with her hands linked behind her back, she looked up at Sam with an impish gaze.

"What?"

"Kiss me."

Sam's smile froze. "Ah… wait, what?"

"Because I'm _arr_ -ish."

There was a moment before he relaxed, rolled his eyes, and continued walking. "Ahaha. Cute. I bet that's worked on all your pirate-loving friends."

Tess caught up him and retorted, "I actually don't need pirate pick-up lines for that, than—Woah, woah." She grasped Sam's arm, pulling him back into an indent in the wall.

"That's the second time tonight you've hit on me," he smirked.

"Shut up," Tess pushed his arm and pointed behind him down the hall. "Look."

"Alright, alright—Oh. Shit." A group of waiters had emerged down the stairs leading from the only exit door and remained lurking around.

"I can't get through that."

Sam turned back to her. "Then how the hell did you get down here?"

Tess clicked her tongue and flipped one of her braids behind her shoulder. "Well, Sam, flirting with men comes naturally to me."

He raised his eyebrows suspiciously. "Since when?"

"I'm kidding. There was an opening. I was curious and bored," she shrugged. "But I guess some of them are on a break now…"

"Okay. Well, we just need a small diversion."

Tess's eyes lit up. "Like I said," she lifted up the skirt of her dress and pulled a cigarette from a box held under her stocking. "Smoking indoors is a fire hazard."

A smile developed on Sam's lips where he lit the cigarette and started for the group of waiters. "Be ready."

"Small fire, Sam."

"Got it."

Tess crept a distance behind him, hiding behind a barrel just before the break room. She watched as Sam ambled over to a corner, took a long drag, and flicked the cigarette into the trash next to him. In an instant, it flashed into flames. The waiters worried gazes fixed onto the fire. The group became a frenzy of rushed Italian and clambering attempts to act. But just as quickly as Sam started the fire, he slipped through the distracted waiters with ease. Tess darted out of cover to meet him halfway, and the two swiftly latched hands and rushed up the stairs. As they ran, she managed to sneak a glance back at the waiters, who had almost completely dampened the fire. And then they were suddenly on the other side of the door, and they broke apart in composed demeanors as if they hadn't just started a fire a second ago. Sam peered around before letting himself breathe a sigh a relief and Tess followed suit, directing a small bow at him.

"First time in a while a plan actually worked that good," he chuckled turning to her. "What would I do without you?"

* * *

The two waded around the exhibit, snaking between white clothed outlines of assorted sizes. Sam had his arms folded, face scrunched in concentration. Two rows across from him, Tess hand's hovered over the figures with her eyes closed.

"Okay…" Tess said in a wistful voice. "I'm getting the vibe that it's headwear of Southeast Asian rulers through the ages."

"That's a very specific vibe."

"Don't question my vibe's sources." She held up a finger in protest. " _Ow_." But she had kept her eyes closed. And stumbled into the corner of a covered exhibit case.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah… but, you know, I think my vibe will be just as good with my eyes open."

"I think that's a good idea," Sam's lips tightened, trying to conceal an amused smile. "Besides. It's gonna be wrong either way."

Tess scoffed. "Alright. Let's hear it."

"Fossils. Not dinosaurs though. But definitely fossils."

"Interesting…" Tess pondered. "Oh!" She whipped around in Sam's direction and waved her hand like a paper fan. "What if it's one of those… playground. Lab. Things. You know, to keep kids busy?"

"Nathan sure would like that."

"Both of you would love that."

"True," Sam shrugged. "Who doesn't though?"

"Nobody I want to be around."

Sam nodded and laughed. "C'mon. Let's get our sneak preview of this thing."

They returned to the front of the exhibit where they took a hold of the white cloth on either side of the entrance sign.

"Alright," Sam shifted his weight in anticipation. "Ready?"

"One—"

"Two—"

" _Three_."

The sheet melted to the floor. And when Tess read the sign, she wished she did too.

"' _Civilization Through the Centuries: A Collaborative Student Exhibit led by Professor Toby Goulding'_ ," Sam read. "Huh. Weren't even close, were we?"

He turned to look at her reaction, but she didn't respond. Instead, she stood stiff with her eyes peeled to the ground.

"Hey…" Sam moved in front of her and gently placed his hands on her arms, lowering himself to try to meet her gaze. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Can we go?" Tess croaked.

"Yeah… of course." But neither of them moved. "What's going through your head?"

"Um… I don't know. Nothing." It wasn't technically a lie. She looked up at Sam, who stared back like he was trying to read her. Except she was a closed book. And he was at least open to the index page.

"C'mon. You can tell me. What just happened?"

She sighed. "You know all about how my father was…"

"An emotionally abusive bastard, yeah," Sam finished in a stern voice.

"Right," she nodded. "And how history, anthropology, archeology. It's sorta my thing."

"Sorta is an understatement."

Tess managed a small smile. "Well, that interest is genetic." Her eyes glanced over to the sign.

Sam's face fell. "Oh… Tess, I had no—"

"I know," she interrupted. "I know. I didn't tell you because I've tried really hard to keep my distance from him. And I don't like being reminded about my connection to him," she explained matter-of-factly.

His eyes turned soft… and pitying.

"Jesus, Sam," she backed away from his hold. "Don't look at me like that. I'm not here for pity. I didn't come to you in the first place for that."

"Then why did you?"

Tess blinked blankly at him. "I've told you. My mother was a volunteer nun at the orphanage and she talked—"

"No, no," Sam shook his head. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Give me a spiel."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "It's not a spiel."

Sam sighed and stepped closer with his hands in his jacket pockets.

"Look," he began. "I know we both don't go on these late night escapades and seek out hidden answers to history's biggest questions just for the thrill. Though, you know, that's definitely part of it."

Tess chuckled and Sam smiled back before continuing.

"When I was younger, I read and read and read constantly—I still do, I guess—about these men who went on these grand adventures, like Thomas Tew, Henry Avery, Francis Drake."

"Your ancestor."

Sam shrugged and gave a faux-smug smile. "I like to think so." He sighed. "In any case… it was my dream to be him."

Tess looked down and shifted her weight like a metronome, before speaking with emphasized nonchalance.

"… I wanted to be a 17th century Irish rebel."

Sam's face twisted with confusion as he laughed, which made Tess laugh as well. The echoes that bounced off the walls died a moment later, but Sam looked at her eagerly.

"I also did a lot of reading," she explained. "Because I spent as much time as I could in the library. And I read every book I could. Including one about the Irish Rebellion of 1641. There were these rebel women called virago…"

Tess met his understanding smile with her own amused one.

"It means a woman of great stature, strength, or courage," she recited with a grin. "There was one woman in particular, a rebel leader of sorts. Named Elizabeth Fitzgerald."

"Tess Fitzgerald Virago."

She popped her lips. "Yep."

It was silent again. But more comfortable. Like they were invited here on purpose.

"I didn't technically run away," she said. "My mom wanted me to leave."

Sam ambled over to her side again. "Why?"

Tess turned to face him. "To protect me, I think."

"So you didn't want to run away?"

"Well, no. I did."

"But you also wanted to stay."

Tess nodded.

"Why?"

"To protect her."

Now, Tess thought, maybe they were on the same page.

She clicked her tongue and shook out her arms. "So what happened?"

"Huh?"

"Did you become the great Sir Francis Drake?"

"I don't know," Sam said, adjusting his jacket like a tux. "I think I'm making good contributions to his legacy. What about you? Did you become the Irish rebel you'd always dream you'd be?"

Tess chuckled. "Not yet." She looked up at the exhibit sign with her father's name on it. "Still have some ways to go."

Sam smiled and then his face relaxed into a solemn expression. "Tess, I—"

" _Hey_!" An unfamiliar voice bellowed from a distance. Sam and Tess snapped their heads to see a night guard running directly at them, one hand on their belt.

"Shit—"

"Run!"

They bolted for a nearby staircase and up to the next level. Tess followed Sam to an exposed hallway where another guard appeared at the end. He stumbled back and grabbed her to run the other way, but the guard who had first noticed them came out from the staircase and angrily shouted. They stood tense as they frantically looked for an out.

"Sam," Tess warned. "What are we doing?!"

Suddenly he climbed up on a railing on the side of the hall, facing an entrance to a balcony across the way. And then he jumped. His hands grasped the other railing and he scrambled up and over.

"Tess," he yelled, stretching out his arm. "You need to jump!"

"I…" she looked at the gap separating them. The railing itself looked less short next to her than it did next to Sam, and the distance between the balcony and her long. Too long. She looked back at the guards, who were now dangerously close, hoping to suddenly see a new way out.

"Please! You'll make it! Trust me!" Sam insisted.

In the next second, Tess was on the railing. And a second after that, she was in midair. She stretched her hands and felt the descent to the ground. And then Sam caught her arm. He pulled her up and she flipped over the railing with his hand still grasped to her.

"C'mon," Sam said as they jumped down from the balcony and onto soft patches of grass. And then they ran. And they kept running until some minutes later when they returned to an area Tess recognized. They stood quiet until their heavy breaths subsided.

"So…" Tess began. "What were you going to say?"

"Right," Sam said. He strolled over to her. "I just… Your father—"

"Sam, c'mon—"

"It's never going to happen again. I'll make sure of it. And you're going to be okay."

Tess nodded and gave him a half smile. And then she cocked her away from them. "Walk me home, pirate."

* * *

Sam and Tess walked down an empty hall, which was a shortcut to the ballroom. It was also an area that nobody was allowed to be in, including waiters. They had remained quiet, and so did the shortcut, until they heard voices coming from the opposite direction. For a few moments they made frantic glances back and forth between each other and the hall, wordlessly arguing about where to hide until Tess found an empty room. Sam rushed in and they closed the door just before the source of the voices turned the corner.

They looked at each other and let out laughs of relief.

"Close," Tess said.

"Too close," Sam agreed. "Okay. Your turn."

"Huh?"

"Your turn. To brief me on your life since we last saw each other."

"Right."

Sam looked down at her left hand.

"Weren't you and Darryl engaged? How's that going?"

"Yeah…" Tess averted her gaze and laughed uncomfortably. "Turns out I'm more like my mom than I thought."

"Oh, no…" Sam's face fell and he leaned back against the side of the bookcase behind him. "He didn't… did he ever…?"

"Just once," she said. "When I handed him the divorce papers. And we are divorced, by the way." She leaned on the wall next to him. "No children. Thank God."

Sam looked at her like he was trying to read her. She sighed and moved the neck of her dress to reveal a scar that lay across her collarbone. He moved closer to her, staring at the scar. He looked at her and she nodded before he raised his hand and lightly brushed the scar.

"It looks like it hurt," he spoke softly.

"It did," she replied. "But you were right."

Sam raised an eyebrow.

"I'm okay now. Therapy and the right meds are pretty great for me."

Sam smiled and leaned back against the bookcase.

"So how come this is an odd job and not the job you had before?"

"I got fired. Side effects of a shitty marriage, I guess."

"You loved that job."

"I love solving historical mysteries. Uncovering secrets. Theorizing about weird shit. You know, grand adventures," she gave him an amused smile. "And I loved doing all that with you," she said, nudging his arm. "I sure as hell wasn't going to be an anthropology professor like my father. The job was just… a more consistent income. And good health insurance. And Darryl, he…" Her smile fell.

Sam quickly moved on. "Was there anyone else after him?"

"Psh," she waved her hand. "Who has time for that sort of thing anyway? What with all these grand adventures?" She laughed half-heartedly. They looked at each other. Maybe for a moment too long. She cleared her throat. "C'mon, let's get moving."

A few minutes later, Tess stood against a pillar and watched as Sam roamed through the ballroom. Eventually, he circled around to her.

"What're you drinking?" he asked.

"French Kiss."

"Wouldn't mind some of that right now."

"Haha, funny," she gestured over to a dark-skinned woman with curly hair. "Is that Nadine Ross, your nemesis?"

"… Sure. Our nemesis."

Tess brought her drink up to her lips. "… she's kinda hot."

Sam glided in front of her and raised his eyebrows.

"What? You're telling me you spent fifteen years surrounded by just men and nothing happened? And even before that—what about that guy from New York you were really handsy with?"

His face went flat and he blinked. "You knew?"

"Now I do," Tess smiled proudly.

He rolled his eyes. "Stop turning this around on me. How'd I not know we were looking at the same people?"

Tess shrugged. "Who'd you think Crystal was with when you guys were off?"

Sam's eyes went wide and then he shook his head and smiled. "Sneaky bastard."

"I may be bad at flirting with men I like—"

"Tragic, really—"

"But I am great with women. Probably better than you are."

Sam scoffed.

"Okay." Tess downed the rest of her drink and put her glass on his tray. "Watch." And he did watch—as she went straight towards Nadine.

"Tess, what the— _Tess_!" he whispered aggressively. But his waiter disguise restrained him. And she stood at the bar next to Nadine Ross. Smiles were exchanged, as were a few light touches. Nadine walked away a minute later after placing a hand over Tess's. She returned next to Sam pinker than she left. And with more alcohol.

"A little flustered there?" Sam remarked.

"She flirted back," she said with a distant look in her eyes.

He looked around as if he missed something. "Isn't that good?"

"Yeah, it's just… she was way less subtle than I expected?" She took a sip of her wine. "Also did you _see_ her arms?"

Before Sam could react, the auctioneer announced the start of the bidding for the next item.

"This is it," he said, placing the tray down. He leaned towards her as he walked away. "Stay close."

Tess lingered at a table near him. She watched as he muttered nervously and the number of the bid grew higher and higher. 150,000. 170,000. 190,000. 200,000.

500,000.

And then the room went dark.

* * *

They were quiet. They weren't usually quiet after a night like this. But Tess was leaning against her windowsill and Sam was leaning against the fire escape railing across from her. Both of them were looking everywhere but each other.

And then Tess spoke.

"Will you be okay, though?"

Sam looked up at her with a crease between his eyebrows that seemed to have become a permanent resident on his forehead.

"Yeah. Of course."

Tess sighed and stared at him with tight lips.

"C'mon, don't look at me like that." He stepped close to her with a smile on his face. The air around him felt desperately relaxed. "Don't waste your time worrying about me. Or anyone! We got too much treasure to discover for that." He nudged her playfully, which elicited a small smile from Tess over her crossed arms. But the smile melted quickly.

"What's the point of discovering anything without someone to discover it with?" Then Sam's smile melted. "What would finishing what your mother started mean if Nathan wasn't with you to see it through?" Sam looked down and stared fidgeting with the sleeves of his shirt. Tess turned around and opened the window. She had one leg through when Sam spoke.

"Let's make a deal then."

She turned to look at him.

"Let me look after you. And you can look after me. Mutual worry and protection."

Sam extended his hand with a goofy grin and Tess's lips reluctantly curved into a satisfied smile. And then she took his hand in hers.

"Deal."

* * *

Tess might have registered the panicked whispers that echoed through the ballroom but as instantly as the ballroom's lights went off, she was pulled away into a nearby room.

"This is my cue to go," Sam said as he began removing the vest of his waiter uniform.

She stood frozen and she didn't know if she'd be able to move until suddenly her mouth blurted words of its own accord.

"303 Ocean Avenue. Outside of Boston."

Sam stepped closer to her smirking as he rolled up his sleeves.

"Is this you hitting on me?"

Tess laughed uncomfortably for what felt like the hundredth time that night. "Third time's the charm, right?" And then Sam was right in front of her, smiling.

"New deal," she said. "Don't die."

He smoothly slid his hands in his pockets and nodded. "… And?"

"I don't know. I'm just hoping we get that far." She extended her hand as much as the distance between them allowed. He looked down and placed his hand in hers, but there wasn't any shaking. Instead, his other hand found its way on the back of her neck and he looked at her and she nodded and their lips met halfway. Their grip on each other may have lasted ten minutes. Tess didn't know. She also didn't care. But it was only a couple seconds before Sam pulled away matched her smile with his own.

"Deal."


End file.
